Coward
by JabberJayJiffy
Summary: Gale Hawthorne is a coward. He was supposed to protect her, he could've saved her. But he didn't. Brave men fight for what they want and protect the people they love, he is no brave man. This story has been changed to a two-shot. I would love some feedback on this story, I just can't let go of it until I hear what you have to say. I don't mean to sound needy, but please read!
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I would just like to make it clear that I am not Suzanne Collins, and I didn't write the Hunger Games. None of these characters belong to me, no matter how bad I wish they did.**

She was exactly as he had remembered. Golden blonde curls were pooled around her tiny midsection. Her blue eyes mysterious and dark, yet holding a lightness to them that was unexplainable. Soft, pink lips that were so plump and moist that he had to resist to urge to plant his own onto them. The girl's luminous pale skin glowing so radiantly she was almost unreal.

Almost was the wrong word to use, she was no longer his Madge. She still looked the same, Gale thought she looked better, if that was even possible. No, her body hadn't changed, save for a few alterations.

He should have been there, to protect her. But Gale was idiotic enough to leave her all on her own. The fact that all of this madness could've been prevented only makes things worse.

_"Why are you leaving?" _

_It was just like any other summer night. The sky was cloudless and perfect for stargazing. Don't forget the unbearable heat, Gale thought. _

_The only difference between this night and the last was that Madge had unexpectedly climbed into his window in the middle of the night. He was lucky that Rory and Vick were heavy sleepers or Gale would've never heard the end of it. It was rather strange to see Madge at such a late hour. Her hair was mussed from sleep, eyes droopy yet alert, and the outfit, don't forget that. Gale was surprised that someone as innocent as Undersee could manage to stand in front of any male, let alone himself, in that short ruffly night gown. The effort he made to keep from staring at those long, smooth legs was extremely taxing. The biggest difference between tonight and last night was knowing that this beautiful girl he had grown a friendship with over Katniss's games wasn't going to be here the next time the moon paid a visit to twelve._

_"I'm leaving," she said in a hushed tone, "because I have to go work."_

_She has to go work. The words "have to" and "work" coming from the Mayor's daughter all at once, was almost laughable. Almost was the wrong word to use, it _was_ laughable._

_Her eyebrows furrowed at the sound of his low chuckle._

_"What are you laughing at?" She asked, rage seeping into her voice. Gale's chuckled roared into an uncontrollable, rumbling laugh. The girl across from him huffed and crossed her arms. She repeated her question, "What are-" he cut her off._

_"Honestly Undersee. A princess like you doesn't have to do anything." He laughed, crossing his arms. "Besides," he continued. That was his first mistake, he'd gotten her mad. And angry Madge was probably one of the only things he feared. "Your da-" this time she cut him off._

_"You're laughing at me?" She yells, throwing her arms in the air. The question she asked is more of a statement. Gale frowns, noticing the tears flooding her eyes._

_"Listen, Madge I-" The blonde begins to back away. Now she's the one laughing. But it isn't the laugh that makes her smile so radiant and beautifully. It's the kind of laugh that makes his insides twist in pain._

_"You what?" Her hoarse voice questions. Now, with her hands guarding herself from him, and the look of betrayal in her eyes, she looks more vulnerable than ever. She looks like prey, and the hunter across from her is sorry he's caused Madge to stoop down to the level of a meal in the Hawthorne household._

_Gale tries to answer her question, "I..." after many, painstakingly slow, minutes he can't find the right words to form. His rebuttal isn't enough for her and she turns to walk away. Now, all he can focus on are the whimpers that rack her body._

_"I know I'm just the Mayors daughter to you," she whispers,_

"That's not true."_ He wants to grab her arms and shake her senseless for thinking something so awful. But he doesn't, and he knows he'll regret it._

_"I would've hoped that I was something more than that." She continues, hand gesturing to her chest. "Hell," even a swear coming from her lips was a wisp of beauty. Her hands flail around her. "you're not even my friend."_

_This time Gale reaches out to her, grabbing her arm and spinning her around to face him. "Of course I'm your friend." Her blue eyes glisten with tears that threaten to spill at any moment. Now he's confused, _isn't that what she wanted?,_ he thinks._

_She shakes her head. "No," she says in a hushed tone, "I don't want that!" Hushed has escalated to a loud screech. Those tears have finally began to stream down her cheeks. Now Gale's really confused. _Of course she doesn't want you_, he thinks, _you're just some Seam brat.

_Before he can voice how angry he is that she would let some dumb social divide come between their friendship, she begins yelling at him._

_"You're right!" Madge screams, "I'm a brat." She rumbles, "I'm selfish and I want a family that loves me, and a mother who actually knows!" Her finger pokes his chest, "Who!" Poke. "I!" Poke. "Am!" The Mayor's innocent daughter has become an unstoppable fountain of rage. Said fountain spews on, "Give me one good reason why I don't deserve to have that?" She screams. But before he can answer she's spitting angry words at him again. "I can't even get a stupid boyfriend!" The way she looks at him when she says that makes him want to think that she means him, but she wouldn't, she's too good for him. _

_"Well at least you haven't gone without food for weeks." He stops her ranting. Her lips part to say something else to him, but he doesn't let her. "You should be happy that nobody in the goddamn world cares about you so that you won't drag them into your own, fucking, messed up problems!" Gale spits at her. This is fact, logic. Nothing that this little girl says can deny that._

_"You're right." She agrees, he smirks, of course he's right. Suddenly she is lifting up her skirt, revealing her flat stomach in the process. "That way not a single person will care about this shit!" Her voice quivers at the end. Madge Undersee is pregnant. Something about the fact that Madge has been that intimate with anybody gets him angry._

_He frowns, "I thought you've never had a boyfriend." He states accusingly. Trying to mask his...feelings._

_"You're right about that too," the fabric drops back down to hide her stomach._

_"Then how-" _

_"I have to work." She hisses. Suddenly it clicks, Madge Undersee is a prostitute. _

_Gale's enraged voice echoes through the streets. "You have enough money Madge, you don't_ have _to do anything_!_ What? Do you like that? Do you like being trash? Fuck, a bitch like you is no better than the dirt beneath my feet! That's all people like you are, dirty pieces of trash!" He yells._

_She doesn't do anything, just sobs into her hands._

That night Madge Undersee went to the Capitol to work. Gale could've stopped her, he could've saved her, he _should've_ saved her. But he didn't, because Gale's a coward. A lowly, dirty coward. And he never deserved an angel like Madge in the first place.

**A/N: Thanks so much! Please R/R.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not promote things mentioned such as, relief of mental pain by that of physical, or the exchange of the body for payment. I've decided that I needed to add this in to the story, I may be continuing after all!**

**Author's Note: May be a little confusing at first. But please keep reading! I promise it will clear up after a while. If you've read all of it and don't understand, I will explain the rest, no worries! Please don't hate me for continuing after I said I wouldn't! :( I just couldn't help myself... :)**

Her eyes peer open just as the first lights begin to flicker on. Golden hair a tangled mess, night gown crumpled and torn. Her back aches from sleeping on the cold metal surface of the table. Lacking a blanket to cover her exposed body, the shivers come involuntarily. She stretches out her muscles, sore and worn from a hard night's work, and swings her legs over the edge of the makeshift bed. Wiggling her chipped, pink toes, she places her feet on the ground. A chill runs up her spine and her body quivers with shock from the hard tile flooring.

Slowly, she makes her way to the tiny compartment in the corner that is somehow considered a restroom. It's a small space with a standing shower that trickles rusty water out of pipes that squeal from overuse. A few cracks crawl up the sides of the wall, and there is no cover around the bathing space. Besides, what is there to hide? A tiny porcelain toilet even too small for Madge at her dwarfish size, rests in the corner crammed between the waste basket and the sink. She makes her way over to the shattered pieces of glass plastered to the grayish-green wall and examines herself.

The blood-shot eyes of a demon stare back at her, but Madge is used to this. Her rough, dry hands run over her face. Once perfectly manicured nails are dirty. Littered with dead human skin and tinted red with dots of blood. She balls her long, slender fingers into a fist and lightly runs the shredded skin of her knuckles over the curve of her make-up-blackened cheek. Unfurling her hand, her fingers trace down the trail of gray left by her mascara.

She had cried herself to sleep last night. Silent tears racked her body. The frightened girl had attempted to cut the agony out of her life. But they were smart enough to dull all of her tools. Any materials too sharp were taken far away, because that's what happens to the sharpest tools in the shed, they got rid of them.

All salvation had seemed lost. It was like a never-ending sea of despair, and growing up as a privileged girl of District Twelve, Madge had never learned how to swim. They had left her to drown in her sorrows alone.

That was, until just last night when they'd found her a ragged mess, sprawled out across the floor. Holding onto the bars on her window that kept her in this cage to suffer until the deed was done. They offered her a box. Her payment for the day.

She counted each vial that evening, to remind her why she was putting herself through such pain. Oh,, the anguish she felt when she realized they had cut her short. A scream crawled up her throat, never to be released in fear of waking her client. _How could they do such a thing,_ she thought,_ after she upheld her end of the bargain, suddenly, they decided she wasn't worthy of what was rightfully hers!_

Jaw clenched and eyes ablaze; she shut them. Furrowing her brow and inhaling the musky scent of the underground sewage. Careful to reopen them slowly when exhaling through her swollen lips. She bit the inside of her cheek. _They can do whatever they want._ She countered her own thoughts. Whatever reassurance she hoped for at this sentence echoing in her skull did not come.

Digging her nails into the crook of her elbow. Hissing through clenched teeth. With the pain came release, it numbed the sting of her thoughts. Slowly, they drifted away and she released her arm.

Her head hurt, pounding and pulsating, unable to rest. No physical pain could compare to the mental agony that came with her..._profession._ Sighing, she glanced back at the figure in front of her.

The skin on her face was weathered, it made her look old. Such a young girl, only sixteen, looking as though she had the weight of the world on her shoulders. Dark shadows circled around her eyes.

The pink in her cheeks that he had loved so much had disappeared, along with the boy that once adored them. He liked her hair too. He said that not even the finest gold could compare to her shiny locks. His fingers combed through it every day, absentmindedly twirling them around.

Her curly strands were shorter now, only barely brushing her shoulder. The Capitol decided that the curls she inherited from her mother were too much of a hassle, and used some sort of cream to permanently straightened the fraying threads. _"No more of those pesky knots and tangles!"_ Those ignorant fools had said.

She knows he would've missed them. She imagined his strong, calloused hands wrapping the strands around his finger as if it would somehow, magically, bounce the corkscrews back in place. When she would ask him what the big deal was, he would puff out his chest and claim that they gave her character. How keen he was on her character, so much like Katniss he would say. She would hide her hurt at his mention of her name and laugh in his face. He would scowl, like always. Then, like always, she would walk home alone once again.

These days, her tiara was secured tightly to her skull, squeezing the life out of her. Devouring every last morsel of torturous delight that was her work. For something that the Capitol was so proud of, strangely, they never flaunted her around like they did with some of them. Most of the victors and children of officials were kept hidden from the public eye.

There were a few that one could only hope would never be recognized for the job that they performed. It would ruin the fun for the media. Always creating meaningless backstories about Finnick Odair and his clients, renamed his string of "lovers".

It was nights like her previous one, when her fight with Gale had ensued. That she contemplates whether or not the tiara was worth the vials of liquid life provided for her mother. Was the suffering worth the pleasure it brought those who didn't deserve it?

Snakes that fed on and manipulated the minds of innocent civilians didn't deserve to feel satisfied. Power-hungry demons shouldn't be provided shelter from the harsh elements of truth. Bed ridden mothers who sold their children's innocence in order to wallow guiltily in peace shouldn't be given a blissful sleep.

A princess's life is undeserving, the high heels and diamond crowns weren't worth the price to be paid. A charmed life was definitely not that of a princess, it was that of a coward who couldn't work up the courage to fix it.

**Author's Note: To clear up any confusion you may have on the reading, this is placed (time-wise) the night after the bombings (AKA Gale and Madge's "fight night"). Oh! And Madge doesn't know about the bombings. After all, she is stuck underground in the cells where the Capitol is keeping her to do her job. So now that you understand it, was it okay? If you have any other questions, I apologize. I'm still new at writing this way. If you have any questions please feel free to PM me! Please tell me what you think, and if I should continue. Please R/R! c:**


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